


when the fire goes out, how do we stay warm? (ON HIATUS)

by gubbins



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Everyone Needs Hugs, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mentions of Shmi Skywalker, Palpatine Sucks, Scars, Tatooine Slave Culture, Temporary Amnesia, The Force, Zygerria Arc, blame discord, but guess what this is a fanfic and an AU, except for the zygerrian queen, listen i know obi wan isn't this much of a mess, so he's messy here, this makes me want to fight the bitchy zygerrian queen in the burger king parking lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gubbins/pseuds/gubbins
Summary: When Anakin stops fighting, Obi-Wan will have to do it for him.He would do anything for his brother.***(or: a zygerria role-reversal to make you all sad)
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Original Female Character(s), Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 76
Kudos: 246
Collections: New SW Canon Server Works





	1. brother, i am cold without you

**Author's Note:**

> you can blame the New SW Canon discord for this. Their angst-loving asses fueled this fire, and what was supposed to be a snippet spiraled into this. 
> 
> (the yarra root i got from discord- we had a huge discussion about tatooine slave culture, and said yarra root is something tatooine parents will put in their child's tea/drinks, to kill them/"put them to sleep", so the masters won't hurt/kill them (it is seen as an alternative to a brutal, painful death). We also discussed the idea that people will take their children (or just themselves) and go out to the dunes and "let the Desert decide their fates", so when Anakin mentions being "swallowed", that's what he means. Just to clarify. 
> 
> Hope you like it! 
> 
> to people from the New SW Canon server: I love you all <3
> 
> edit: hello! i'm sorry, but i have decided to put this story on hiatus for now. i'm not super into the story anymore, and i don't want to force myself to churn out a half-assed chapter, cause that's just not fair to me or you lovely readers. i might update sometime, but i'm honestly not sure. sorry again!

Obi-Wan looks down into the arena from his place beside the Zygerrian queen. He wants nothing more than to jump down there, to yell, to scream, to do _something_ \- but he knows he can't. To blow their cover now is to destroy any chance of saving the colonists. But he wishes he could save more than just them. He wishes he could liberate this whole damn planet. He wishes he could get rid of the threat the Zygerrians posed, somehow- even if he had to rip the crown out of the slaver queen's cold, dead hands.

Obi-Wan looks across the arena as the queen speaks, not looking at Ahsoka nearby (in that horrible outfit, that made people leer at his grandpadawan, like she was a mere object. They looked at her the way Obi-Wan had seen people looking at Anakin during his brief time on Tatooine all those years ago).

Oh. Anakin. Where was he?

Obi-Wan was furious that the Council had sent _Anakin_ , of all people, to this slaver planet. They should have remembered Anakin's past, his time as a slave when he was just a child. They should have remembered that Anakin was once considered nothing more than property, an object to be passed around to different Masters. Obi-Wan should have remembered, he should have fought harder.

He hopes Anakin doesn't know of this auction, as Obi-Wan knows that Anakin would tear down this entire planet if he found out. He would scrape tooth and nail to destroy this disgusting empire. For Anakin mostly acted on his emotions, not that it was necessarily a bad thing- but he sometimes forgot to look at the big picture. There was a balance there, one Anakin struggled to find.

Balance always seemed to elude him.

Obi-Wan worried greatly. After this dreadful mission, they'd actually _talk_ , for once. About everything.

He focuses back on the queen's words, as she announces the Togrutan governor. Obi-Wan tries and fails to look away from the man's beaten form.

And then the worst happens.

"My friends, behold! Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear- on his knees before us!"

Obi-Wan barely registers Ahsoka's horrified gasp, for he is equally as distraught. Below him, on the sandy platform, is Anakin. A shock collar is on his neck and dirt on his face. His clothes are ripped, and his hair is mussed and greasy. Obi-Wan wants so badly to run to his brother before Anakin does something rash and gets them all caught.

But when Obi-Wan looks over Anakin's frail form again, he sees something. Something so much worse.

The fire in Anakin's eyes is... gone. There is no defiance, no opposition, none of that trademark confidence- only the hollow gaze of someone who is dreaming of being anywhere else. All at once, Obi-Wan's previous fears vanish. Before, he had been worried that Anakin would say something sarcastic, signal for his 'saber, fight back; but now, Obi-Wan knows that isn't the problem.

Anakin had been a slave, once. Before he was a General, a hero, a Jedi, a Master, a brother, or a husband (yes, Obi-Wan knew. Anakin had never been subtle, and try as she might, neither was Padmé)- before any of that, he was simply _Ani_. A slave, a son, a child of a cruel Desert that took more than it gave.

This is who is before them now. It wasn't Anakin down there, it was Ani, and that was so much worse. Obi-Wan Kenobi's (previously unknown, for he had never imagined it to be possible) greatest fear had come true, before his very eyes.

For the first time in over ten years, Anakin Skywalker was not fighting back.

"This Jedi, this watchdog of a petty, corrupt senate, a preacher of freedom and peace though he brings only war and death- is nothing more than a _puppet_! And now, he will kneel before us," The queen boasts, proudly smiling at the cheering crowd.

At this moment, Obi-Wan wants her life to end. He wants it to be at his own hands. _How dare she do this, how dare she make Anakin go through such a thing, how dare she-_

Oh. She's speaking to him now. "Show him his true place," She commands. Obi-Wan nods numbly, a pathetic movement of a broken man. Obi-Wan feels broken, he does. He feels crushed, splintered, shattered into a million tiny pieces-

Anakin had broken, and as Obi-Wan is his brother, he will too. Two halves of the same whole, and if one goes down the other surely will as well. They are nothing without the other, and are only something when together.

Some may ask, " _What is the galaxy without Obi-Wan Kenobi?_ "

The real question is, " _What is the galaxy when Anakin Skywalker stops fighting?_ "

Obi-Wan doesn't know the answer to that. He doesn't know what it's like to witness your dearest friend, your son, your brother, your _soul_ , fractured into pieces-

Or maybe he does, now. He doesn't want to think about it.

He remembers things Anakin once said, about his mother and Yarra Root and a saying.

_"I would rather my child die than be a slave like me."_

But Anakin, Ani (for as much as they are different, they are also the same) had once been a slave. And now, he is again. Or maybe he always had been, and only his title had changed with time.

_Has Anakin ever truly been free?_

How could Obi-Wan have let this happen?

He approaches his former apprentice (though everyone knows that statement is a half-truth; no Master-Padawan pair had ever stayed so close as they had after Knighthood) and he almost wants to claw his eyes out. Anakin is kneeling on the hard ground, his shoulders are hunched. Obi-Wan has never seen him look so... defeated.

As Obi-Wan nears him, Anakin turns. His eyes are glassy, his cheeks are gaunt, and above all he looks _haunted_. "Obi?" He says weakly.

Obi-Wan doesn't care about their cover anymore. "Yes, dear one, I'm here."

Anakin shudders, his voice cracking from disuse and the delusions of fear. "I- I wanted to help, I was going to- the Root, Obi, the _Root_ \- I'll find it, so they can rest- let them rest, let _me_ rest, please-"

"It's going to be alright, I promise. Just hang on," Obi-Wan whispers, and his younger brother makes an aborted movement, one he guesses was meant to be a nod. Obi-Wan looks up at R2, not able to take anymore of this con.

His and Anakin's lightsabers soar gracefully through the air, and Obi-Wan catches them both. Ignoring the angered roar of the spectators, he pulls with the Force and removes the shock collar, trying not to look too closely at the angry red mark it left on Anakin's neck. When Obi-Wan goes to hand Anakin his lightsaber, his brother flinches, but makes no move to take it. "I don't- I don't want it- I want to rest- I want to rest, like Mom- let the Desert swallow me, Obi, please-"

"Anakin, please just hold on, for me. Sleep, and I will be here when you wake up." Obi-Wan blocks the Zygerrian guards' shots as Anakin closes his eyes, slowly crumpling into a fetal position on the ground. The Jedi Master glances up to the balcony, where Ahsoka is holding the queen, green blade pressed close to her neck.

Obi-Wan grips the two lightsabers (lightsabers that would forever be entwined, just as their souls were. Though Anakin loved Padmé more than anything, with his mother a close second, Obi-Wan was somehow _more_. He was his other half, and they would be brothers until the end). Blades ignited, he scowls up at the slaver queen. "Your Majesty, I feel it is time for your reign to end."

"Oh?" The queen has the gall to laugh, even with a blade to her throat. "Is this what the Jedi are now, wild beasts that fight wars and threaten royalty?" She's not sending her guards to detain him, not yet. She's waiting for him to move, to break, to fight ( _fight when Anakin cannot_ ).

Obi-Wan doesn't reply. Instead, he jumps.

He goes for the nearby guards first. Their heads roll onto the ground, cleanly severed. One by one, they fall at the enraged hand of a Jedi- no, this is not the fighting of a Jedi, this is the fighting of a brother, an other half, someone who is seeing red because their sibling has been torn apart. Obi-Wan had felt anger before, but never like this. This is cold, and detached, but it is also hot and painful and so horribly real-

And Obi-Wan is drinking it up, letting it fuel him as he practically flies through the arena.

Rex is taking out the Zygerrian reinforcements, his aim always ringing true. Ahsoka, who now seems to be nearing the Dark path Obi-Wan has started down, has killed the prime minister and is slowly backing away with the queen. Obi-Wan jumps up to them, signing at Rex to meet them outside.

" _Get Anakin_ " He signs to the Captain, who nods once and as gently as possible lifts his General (the clones are much stronger than they look, Obi-Wan has learned) and exits. The Jedi turns to the enslaving, despicable ruler. She smiles cruelly, blood from where she must've bit her tongue starting to coat her teeth. She looks almost primal, exuberant, her eyes flashing with excitement-

She knows Obi-Wan is in pain, and she is reveling in it.

"Kenobi, is it? I must say, I've never seen a Jedi so unhinged. You've surprised me."

"I do like to keep my opponents on their toes," He says roughly, trying to keep his voice steady.

"You and I are similar in that fact." She smirks, making Obi-Wan's blood boil. How dare she compare herself to him ( _him, who had let Anakin be taken, let him be dragged off to Force knows where, to then be thrown in chains-_ )

Who was he to act so above this slaver? Yes, she had been the one to do this Anakin, but Obi-Wan hadn't helped at all (never mind the fact that he hadn't known); and doesn't that make him just as guilty? He had been too preoccupied in the mission, the part he had to play.

That always seemed to happen to them. Obi-Wan was always busy with duties, while Anakin spiraled. Obi-Wan never noticed, never helped. His eyes flutter closed, just for a second, and he is met with the image of his sleeping brother, cheeks sunken and face pale. The guilt eats at him, painfully carving out a place in his heart.

The world fades. Obi-Wan lunges. There is a scream.

However, the scream doesn't come from the queen. It comes from Ahsoka.

"Master, no! It's not- you can't-"

"Ahsoka," Obi-Wan whispers, one blade mere breaths from slicing through the queen. "Anakin-"

"-Wouldn't want you to do this," She interjects. They are both aware of the unspoken truth that hangs in the air; Anakin would do it himself, before either of them could even move. "Master, please, she'll be taken back to Coruscant, but we can't do this." She gestures to his ignited lightsabers.

Obi-Wan looks to his weapons, then to Ahsoka, and back again. The blinding anger slowly melts away, leaving an icy-cold feeling in his bones.

The queen glowers. "Master Kenobi, I grow tired of this. Perhaps we can work up an agreement?"

"I will not barter with slavers, you witch," he snaps. He tries to shrug off Ahsoka's wince, knowing she was surprised at his tone. She had never heard her grandmaster so... outraged. Impatient, tired, disappointed, sure- but not this.

This is almost Dark.

The Zygerrian queen chuckles. "How about this: If you agree to my terms, I will let your friends go, no questions asked."

As much as he doesn't want to listen, Obi-Wan is enthralled by the promise of Anakin's safety. "What do you require?"

"Master, you can't-" Obi-Wan shakes his head, and Ahsoka, upset as she is, quiets.

The conversation resumes. "It seems I'm in need of an attendant, if the girl behind me is a fake. Would you be willing to take up the role?" Her tone and word choice are misleading. There is no option, no room to decline- if he tries, she will have them all killed. She is in control of the situation (Obi-Wan certainly isn't, he lost control when Anakin came out in a shock collar- _don't think of it_ \- _don't_ \- _stop_ \- _no_ \- _ANAKIN_ -)

"You will let them go?" Obi-Wan asks quietly.

"They will be free," The queen answers, the irony of her words likely not lost on her. How rare it must be for her to let a person go, let alone three and a droid.

The lightsabers hiss as they turn off. Ahsoka looks horrified, and Obi-Wan's stomach churns at his decision. ' _But Anakin will be safe,_ ' He thinks to himself.

The queen grins. She has won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment your thoughts! i love hearing what people think of my writing :) 
> 
> come hang with me on tumblr, user is @ayo-cowbelly


	2. brother, i am drowning without you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is just SkySnips fluff and then *angst*. hope you enjoy ;) 
> 
> Warning: descriptions of injuries and a panic attack

When Anakin wakes up, he sees sterile white walls and bright lights filling his vision. Everything is blurry. It reminds him of being unconscious, except instead of darkness all he sees is blazing white.

The first thing he registers is that his body, especially his right eye, feels like it’s on fire. Then he realizes that his right side feels suspiciously light. Anakin knows he must have injuries, somehow, but he doesn’t remember exactly how he got them. Usually, when he wakes up in MedBay, the memories come rushing back within a few seconds; sometimes it even makes Anakin nauseous. But this time, there’s _nothing_. No flashes of battle, no cut off sentences, no ringing of an explosion in his ears.

There’s a blankness filling the space where the last few days (or weeks, he doesn't know) should be. It makes Anakin more unsettled than the nausea would.

He closes his eyes, reaching for the memories, but all he can remember is having a meeting with the Council- about what, he doesn’t know. But he recognizes the feelings that come with it; irritation, resentment, anticipation. The emotions feel stronger than they would normally be. Whatever he’d been doing, it hadn’t been good. He dives into his head again, and almost gets past the Council meeting; but when he tries to get farther, he meets a wall. As Anakin bangs against the structure, it keeps pushing him back. He’s not sure if it’s meant for protection or to deceive him.

 _Maybe Obi-Wan knows?_ Now that Anakin is awake, he should comm his master- Obi-Wan would surely be aware Anakin has been unconscious (and it must have been caused by something bad, if Anakin’s stinging limbs are any indication). Anakin looks down at his body, inspecting the injuries. His left arm has red scars running down it, along with his legs. Some look newer, and he knows how to differentiate those from his old ones from Tatooine- those he is intimately familiar with.

There are the small ones on his fingers, from when he was a child reaching for machinery his mother couldn’t reach. There’s ones on his legs (which are currently bare, due to the hospital gown he’s wearing) from the lashings Watto and Gardulla gave him, and of course ones he earned for running through Mos Espa trying to get away from said lashes.

But these new marks… he’s not sure where they’re from. Anakin reaches up to his right eye, trying to discover the source of the pain. He runs his fingers over the scar, wondering why it feels… longer than it used to be. Anakin follows the stitches (why he needed stitches on an old scar, he has no idea), dread swirling in him as he traces them down to just above his jawline. His cheek feels swollen and numb.

Anakin counts about 15 new wounds on his left arm, and those are just the ones he can see (some, he notices, run under his sleeve. He doesn’t want to know where they go). There are some bandages on his legs and he thinks he senses one on his left shoulder. Anxiously, he slowly turns his head to his now-weightless side. The sight before him shocks him to his core.

His right arm. It’s _gone_.

Not just the prosthetic. His entire right arm. Is not there. His limb just... ends at his shoulder, a small stump the only thing left. Anakin slams against the wall in his head, demanding answers, but the damned thing stays strong. The effort almost exhausts his already ragged mind. _What happened to me?_

As he surveys the MedBay, it’s seemingly empty- save for a few other sleeping troopers, so it must be during the night cycle. His eyes land on the bacta tank. In it is Rex, eyes closed. His body is covered in marks as well. But they’re not as bad as Anakin’s, not even close. The Jedi looks closely at the other troopers in the room, checking if they have anything resembling lashes or cuts- but they don’t. It’s just him and Rex, from what he can tell so far.

The door to the MedBay opens, Kix striding in. When he sees Anakin, he almost drops his datapad. “General! You’re awake!” Judging by the tone of the medic’s voice, Kix is genuinely surprised- just how long had Anakin been out?

“Yeah, I am- Kix, what happened? Where did my kriffing arm go?” As he talks, his throat aches with soreness- Anakin doesn’t try to figure out why (he knows he won’t like the answer).

Kix walks forward slowly. “You… you don’t know, Sir?”

“No,” Anakin says, disgruntled. “I can’t remember anything after my last meeting with the Council.” His stomach drops a bit when he sees Kix’s eyes widen.

Swallowing, his head medic inspects the bandages and marks on his body. A tense silence fills the room. Anakin hates it.

“Kix. Where did Rex and I go?”

“Sir, I- I’m not sure I’m the right person to tell you.”

Anakin feels a flare of anger. Kix means well, he knows that; but when you wake up with new scars and a _missing limb_ , with your captain in a bacta tank- well, you’re bound to have questions.

“Just tell me why my arm’s gone, Kix, if you won’t tell me where we were.”

Kix lifts his head, looking Anakin in the eye grimly. “Your prosthetic was gone by the time I got to you. The rest of the limb was too infected and torn up to be saved.”

Anakin looks back to the stump at his shoulder. Eyes closed, he whispers, “Why was my arm torn up?”

“General Skywalker, really, I don’t think I’m the best person-”

Anakin silences Kix with a wave of his left hand. “Fine, then, just- can you get me Obi-Wan?”

At his General’s words, Kix pales but doesn’t say anything. “I’ll- I’ll get you Commander Tano, Sir,” Kix says shakily, before turning and walking out.

Anakin has more questions than answers.

He waits, fidgeting with his hospital gown, wondering why the hell Kix seemed so unsteady around him. As he sits in his bed, he tries reaching out to Obi-Wan in the Force. Anakin locates their bond- but it’s unstable, the thread fraying on both sides. He pulls on it, and is met with a wobbly burst of surprise, distress, love, and sorrow from Obi-Wan. Anakin sends back feelings of confusion and slight impatience. He doesn’t receive anything in reply.

He’s about to reach out again, but is interrupted by a shout of “Skyguy!” Anakin turns to Ahsoka, her feet pounding over to him. She throws her arms around him, holding tight.

“Snips?”

“Oh, thank the Force you’re awake- it’s been _awful_ , Master, without you or Rex here- please, don’t _ever_ do that again-”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin says. He gently pries her arms off his, but still keeps her close. His Padawan- his little sister- has tears in her eyes as she looks over him. “What happened to me? Where’s Obi-Wan?”

Ahsoka’s eyes overflow. “Master, he’s- they- I tried to tell-” The sentence is cut off by her broken sobs. Anakin pulls her into his chest again, and she gratefully holds on. He runs his hand over her Lek, making soft shushing noises.

“It’ll be okay, Snips, whatever happened- it’ll be okay,” He whispers. Ahsoka only cries harder. Anakin wonders if his Master is- _no, he can't be_ , Anakin felt him through their bond- _Obi-Wan is not dead_.

~

The next day, Anakin sets off to the bridge, intending to get answers.

Well, he tries. Whether or not he actually got there is a different story. Ahsoka, Kix, and even Cody (who has apparently been on the Resolute for as long as Anakin’s been out- the Commander looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks) all sternly ordered him to stay put.

“Master, you just woke up last night; you need to rest.”

“I can’t rest, I need to know where Obi-Wan is, where I’ve been-”

“Sir, as head medic, I’m respectfully commanding you to stay put,” Kix finishes replacing a bandage on Anakin’s leg, sternly giving him a _look_.

Anakin, knowing not to argue with Kix, tries a different tactic. “Cody, you agree with me, right?”

Cody, who looks incredibly worn out, just shakes his head at Anakin, making the Jedi sigh.

“Please, just tell me what happened,” Anakin begs, looking around at the three of them. The two clones share a glance before saluting quickly and walking away, nodding to Ahsoka.

She stares at the closing doors, hands twisting and pulling at her clothes. Anakin’s eye catches on an angry-looking line on her uncovered right shoulder. Had she been on the mission, too? Anakin hopes she wasn’t; whatever mission this was, it had been catastrophic, if he was missing an arm and Obi-Wan was gone- _No. Don’t- don’t think about that- he’s alive, you felt him, you’ll find him-_

Ahsoka takes a deep breath. Then another. She wipes her eyes, turning to face him. “Master, we were on…” she pauses and takes his left hand, as if telling Anakin to brace himself. “You, me, Rex, and Obi-Wan… we were on Zygerria. But after that-”

He can’t hear the rest of her sentence. The word ‘Zygerria’ triggers a myriad of emotions in Anakin. Anger, fear, sadness, pain, despair, hopelessness- he doesn’t know what to make of them. He feels numb and overstimulated all at once. His heart twists in his chest. Anakin wonders if he’s about to float away or sink into the floor, and he distinctly remembers yelling and crying and wondering where the Root was-

“Master?” Ahsoka says, but her voice can’t bring him back. He faintly registers a tentative brush of sympathy and love in their bond, but he can’t reply- he’s lost in his head.

Anakin is stuck in an ocean, and he’s going to drown, why can’t he swim- _where is Obi, how can I get out, DON’T TOUCH ME- where is the Root, I want Obi, GET AWAY FROM ME- I want to rest, I’m so tired, let me sleep, LEAVE REX ALONE- why can’t I see the Dunes, they’re supposed to be here, I can see Mom again, I HATE THIS PLANET- let them swallow me, I TOLD YOU TO STOP- I want to help, STOP PLEASE STOP, STOP, DON’T DO THAT, STOP- Obi please help me-_

The thoughts that must be from the mission whirl around his brain, but he can’t grasp onto the memories they hold. Anakin wants them to go away, he wants them to stay put, he wants to make his hand stop shaking. Why is he burning if he’s about to drown? His heart pounds and he can’t breathe, he can’t breathe, his legs don’t work, he is going to sink-

Suddenly, his spiraling mind is gently pulled at with a sweep of affection and love. The feelings aren’t his, but from someone nearby (he can’t remember who). The person keeps building up the sentiment, until they become a thick blanket that is laid over Anakin, shielding him.

He finds that his eyes are closed. He slowly comes back into his body, and realizes his left -his only- hand is tightly gripping something.

It’s another hand. _Ahsoka_. He opens his eyes, breaths regulating. Anakin releases her hand as he turns his head to look at her. His little sister is looking at him worriedly, questions in her eyes.

“Anakin?” She breathes.

“‘Soka?” He croaks out. His throat is even more sore than before. “Where- where’s Obi?”

A heavy pause. “The queen has him, Anakin,” Ahsoka says quietly.

Anakin can't help but be relieved that Obi-Wan has been confirmed alive. But the Zygerrian queen has him- and Anakin knows that that is so much worse than his Master being dead.

_I would rather my child be dead than be a slave like me._

But this time, it's his brother.

"'Soka... what happened... after we were _there?_ " Anakin asks, part of him not wanting her to answer.

"You- The guards, they found you and Rex, and they shipped you off- They put me in a cell," She says. Searching his face, his apprentice knows he needs more details. Sadly, she continues, "They took you to Kadavo, Master. The queen made Obi-Wan her servant."

 _Kadavo._ A place all slaves knew, even on Tatooine. It was the planet that everyone had nightmares of. He had been sent there- The thought almost sends his mind spiraling again, but before it happens, Ahsoka takes his hand and fills their bond with comfort. Anakin meets her eyes. "How long- how long were we-" He can't bring himself to finish. It doesn't feel _real-_ but it must be. They made him into a-

_Don't finish that thought._

Anakin turns back to Ahsoka. Another pause. Eyes closed, Ahsoka mumbles, "It was about a month before we were rescued, Master."

He doesn't know what to say to that- he had been on Kedavo for a _month_? "H- how did they find us?"

"It took them a while to figure out where you were, but once they did, they sent Master Plo to get us. Once they got you, they went for me and Obi-Wan- Rex told Master Plo where we were before he went unconscious, apparently. They found me, but... nobody knows where the queen put Master Obi-Wan."

Red fills Anakin's vision. Obi-Wan, _his brother_ , is missing, in the hands of some slaver queen-

_She will pay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags have been updated, along with the chapter count- this story will definitely be more than two parts. it just went in its own direction and i was powerless to stop it.


	3. brother, i am numb without you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today i’m serving up an entree of zygerrians being assholes, with a side of dark obi wan and angsty inner thoughts- enjoy! 
> 
> First of all, the canon timeline has been taken out back and shot- so we’re currently just blindly driving through the year 20 BBY. For this universe, it has been about two months since the original zygerria mission (which happened at the same time as canon). Just for reference i guess. 
> 
> ALSO, QUICK NOTE ABOUT UPDATES: school just started for me, along with other things, so updates are going to be weird for this story. There are just a lot of things going on in my life, including writing, so I can’t promise when I’ll be able to update- BUT IT WILL BE OFTEN! Just not on a set schedule/general time frame.
> 
> p.s. lines from the tatooine slave code the discord and i came up with are mentioned- you can find the whole thing at @newswcanonprompts on tumblr

Obi-Wan has been periodically blacking out for about a week now. Maybe more, maybe less. He’s not actually sure how long it’s been. All he knows is that sometime, the Zygerrians had decided to tuck him away in this... 

What could he call his new accommodations? It looks like an old dungeon- smells like one too. The walls are crumbling, and there’s a leaky crack on the ceiling that has been keeping Obi-Wan a bit entertained. He watches the water drops slide down the wall, making him dream of rain. He wishes to be outside, to be free. 

For the first few weeks, when he was the queen’s attendant, he had been allowed to go wherever in the palace- as long as he followed the queen when she called. She probably allowed this small bit of freedom to show everyone her new Jedi pet. But then it all changed. 

Obi-Wan had been in his “room” (a small closet-like space with a cushion and a little pot to relieve himself) when he heard shouting and running. Peeking outside, one of the queen’s guards caught sight of him and yelled something in Zygerrian; the guard then pressed a button and Obi-Wan’s collar shocked him into unconsciousness. 

When Obi-Wan awoke, he was in this cave, his bare shoulders bleeding from where the guards must have dragged him. Usually, the queen’s attendants were dressed nicely, but Obi-Wan supposed he was a special case. 

They starved him, dressed him in his torn clothes, made him look weak- a showcase of Queen Miraj’s power, her ability to beat even a Jedi into submission. 

And Obi-Wan _has_ been beaten. He knows it, the queen knows it, everyone on this blasted planet knows it. His muscles are pretty much depleted by now, his bones getting more and more frail every day- and his spirit was just as crushed. After learning (he learned through punishment; teaching was done with whips on this planet) to be quiet, he eventually accepted that this was no place for his well-known banter.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is not a silent person. But, that is who he has to be, if he is to survive. 

In his silence, he thinks of Anakin and hopes for his safety. He reflects on their only communication in the last few weeks, that one burst of emotion in their Force bond. Obi-Wan wishes he could tug on the bond, at least send Anakin an inkling of feeling, but it was impossible. He has no strength for such things, and if he did, he can’t try- Queen Miraj had put him in Force-dampening cuffs some time ago (they are rusted and old, probably because the queen was never lucky enough to have a Jedi in her grasp). 

So he is left alone with nothing but a dreary cell and troubled questions for company. 

Is Anakin alright? Does he know Obi-Wan is alive? Does he still have that horrible haunted look that plagues Obi-Wan’s nightmares, the one from the arena? 

_Is his brother free?_ Obi-Wan wonders that most often. He doesn’t know if Anakin is free, or if he’s just briefly escaped; then again, he also doesn’t know what exactly his former apprentice is running from. Chains? Nightmares? Fear? Darkness? 

Or maybe those are all the same. At least, they seem to have become one in this blurry hell Obi-Wan is now living in. 

The Darkness comes for him while he’s unconscious. Whenever the world fades, Obi-Wan is met with a black expanse that threatens to consume him. 

He finds it harder and harder to push it away. In fact, Obi-Wan’s vision is starting to dim, his bleary eyes starting to close… 

But before he goes under, the old metal door creaks open. 

“Hello, _Master Jedi_ ,” The Zygerrian guard jeers, the mocking evident in his tone. Obi-Wan feels he has lost any right to that title (what Master would let their Padawan be treated so terribly, what Master would embrace Darkness while he sleeps?).

Obi-Wan just turns his head to the other man, fresh cuts on his cheek stinging from the movement. He does not reply. 

“Thought you were a talker. ‘Guess not,” The guard remarks as he slides a dish of something gray-looking across the floor. Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize him, this must be the first time they’re meeting (he probably wanted a glimpse at the queen’s new Jedi pet). “No response? Fine.” 

The Zygerrian leans cockily against the cell door, head tilted down to Obi-Wan’s pathetic body. “Can’t say I’m upset you’re quiet. I didn’t expect it- the newbies are always loud at first. It’s always so irritating, listening to their crying and screaming, but they learn soon enough.” The guard smiles wickedly, fingers tracing his whip. Obi-Wan has heard the screams on this planet, the cries of children. He's watched as they go still, their tears giving way for the crack of a whip and their torturers’ cruel laughs. 

Obi-Wan has been making himself numb for weeks. But as the guard drones on, his fangs glinting in the darkness, a wave of red-hot fury courses through the Jedi. It feels similar to that day in the arena, when he’d come _so close_ to killing Queen Miraj- until Ahsoka stopped him. 

Obi-Wan wishes he’d murdered her right there. A part of him wants to see the life in her eyes drain, and he wants it to be at his own hand. He wants to see her pay for what she did to Anakin, to Rex, to so many others- he will make her pay. Make her _suffer-_

 _Yes,_ something deep in him whispers. _It’ll be easy. She will suffer. And when she dies, you will be the one to make her heart stop beating-_

“Hey,” the guard’s raspy voice interrupts whatever had been filling Obi-Wan’s head. “Were your eyes always yellow-ish? I heard they were blue.” 

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to make of that. 

~ 

The sunlight burns his delicate skin. Obi-Wan blinks rapidly, as he is no longer used to the brightness of day (honestly, how long was he in that cell? Nobody will tell him- maybe it’s a good thing he doesn’t know). 

He is pushed roughly with a blaster. “Keep moving, scug,” one of his escorts, a particularly nasty-looking guard, says. 

“Where-” Obi-Wan coughs, his voice scratchy. “Where are we going?” 

“ _You’re_ going to see the queen.” 

“Then why are we outside?” 

“Did you really think your disgusting room was in the palace this whole time? If you think we treat our royalty like that, you’re more idiotic than I thought,” another guard sneers, sounding almost offended. 

Obi-Wan sighs defeatedly. “I meant, why not just put me in a speeder and be done with it? Why parade me through the streets?” 

The original guard, the one who pushed him, barks out a laugh. “Why do you think? Now shut up and walk.” 

Obi-Wan realizes what the guard means. It's a show for the Masters. He can’t stop himself from looking around, making eye contact with the slave traders and their grins- they are all too happy at seeing a famous Jedi being led along in chains. Said Jedi wants to wipe the smiles off their faces, for they might think they are in power here, but he will show them what- 

_No,_ he thinks, recoiling from the Dark thoughts. _Stop- don’t go there, Obi-Wan._ He doesn’t want to think about his eyes, if they’re yellow or blue- he doesn’t want to, he wants the Dark to leave him alone- 

Or does he? 

_Stop, stop, don’t think about it, GO AWAY-_ he screams in his mind, pushing the Dark away. It backs off for now, but Obi-Wan knows it will come back in his dreams. 

~

They finally reach the palace, and the guards grab him by the arms to lead him inside. Their sharp nails drag across his skin, some even giving him more cuts- but instead of thinking about it, Obi-Wan prefers to be numb, so that is what he does. Sinking into the Force (which he can barely feel, due to the cuffs he still wears), he lets himself be pulled along. 

Queen Miraj’s voice is what snaps him out of it. The blissful respite of the Force slinks away, despite Obi-Wan’s frantic grabs at it. 

“Master Kenobi, it is wonderful to see you again,” she purrs, eyes raking over his battered form. Seeing an exceptionally angry gash on his arm, the queen smirks. “I hope you are enjoying your new room.” 

He does not reply. He will not let her take his words; she has already taken his body, she will not have his voice. It is a lesson he has learned from the other slaves, one Anakin had drunkenly described years ago. 

_Though he was drunk, Anakin sounded almost poetic, but devoid of emotion- it was how he always seemed when talking about Tatooine. “Peace in Silence, Defiance in Demureness… They teach us to be quiet. Watch instead of speak. Watching is how we learn. And, if the Masters don’t have your voice, then they cannot truly win.”_

Obi-Wan didn’t, and still doesn’t, want to know why those teachings sounded like a mantra, a code engraved into Anakin’s very being, even after being freed. 

_Can you ever wash away the sands of a slave?_

How much of the Desert still lives inside Anakin? 

Again, Obi-Wan doesn’t want to know. 

The queen keeps talking. “No response? I thought you had better manners than that, Master Jedi.” They love to call him that, don’t they? The Masters love to remind him of his place. By calling him 'Master', they reaffirm the fact that it is _they_ who are really in charge- he is nothing more than their _toy_. 

He ignores the queen’s taunts. She cocks her head, brows narrowing. “You might be wondering why I summoned you here. I imagine you have many questions regarding your… _new arrangements_.” 

Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything, instead just keeping his eyes trained on her. He watches as she clenches her jaw. Her voice does not betray her growing irritation- she had been hoping for an outburst. “See, a bit of time ago, your little Republic friends came here. They broke into my dungeon, took that little Togruta you’re so fond of, and then left. They also took away my prize, your little Chosen One…” 

Obi-Wan, who had been studying the wall, whips his head towards her. Forgetting to be quiet, he stutters, “They- they got Anakin-?” 

Queen Miraj leers at him. “Yes, they did; just in time, too, I suppose. He was not going to make it much longer.” 

A pink Twi’lek -probably the queen’s new attendant- is in the corner, staring intently at Obi-Wan. She is pressing her finger to her lips, signaling for him to be quiet. He ignores her. “What did you do to him?!” 

The queen smiles smugly, annoyance forgotten. She motions for her guards to restrain Obi-Wan. Once he is firmly held down, she replies. “It was easy to see that he was once a slave. He was already cracking. But _I_ broke him.” She sounds prideful, taking joy in the fact that she- 

_No. Anakin is strong. He’s alright. He is alright. He has to be alright._

“You cannot break Anakin. He is strong, stronger than you will ever be.” The Twi’lek in the corner is frantically shaking her head at him, neck rubbing against her shock collar. But Obi-Wan cannot get himself to quiet. Not now, not anymore. 

“You think he is powerful? He is a slave, Kenobi. It doesn't matter where he is, who he calls Master- he will always be chained,” the queen snaps. 

“He was freed.”

She laughs at his protests, eyes glinting. “You do not understand. A slave is never free, _Jedi_. You can shower him in love, titles, and luxury- but I know what a child of the Desert looks like. Tatooine is a cruel place; it has a certain way of… rooting itself in its children. Some of them end up here, and they are easily recognized. Skywalker is just like them, scarred and broken. They will only be free when Death claims them, Kenobi.” 

Obi-Wan pushes at the guards, trying to get to the queen. He wants to wipe that cruel smirk off her face, drown it in blood- “You’re wrong!” 

“Look at how you refuse the truth- just like a Jedi. You know I am right. You know it, you see it in him, the cracks- and you never help, do you?” 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan grinds out, “is not a slave. He is a Jedi, he is _free_ -” 

The queen’s lip curls. “A slave,” she repeats, “is never free.” 

The Darkness rises up in him, louder this time. It rushes through his head, pounding against his skull. It wants to be let loose- so he lets go. The cuffs start to snap, and he pushes outwards into the room. The queen is slowly pushed back at her throne, and if these rusty old cuffs will break Obi-Wan will be able to crush her skeleton against it- 

Then, something slams into his head, and the world goes black again. 

~ 

He wakes up to the throne room, but this time, it’s a bit different. For starters, he’s kneeling, held in place by two ropes attached to the walls. More guards fill the room, and now the prime minister is standing diligently by Miraj’s side, scowling at Obi-Wan. 

His head throbs from where he was hit, blood trickling down his forehead. He looks down at his hands, seeing that they are now in cuffs that look brand-new. 

“You dare try to attack me?” The queen snarls at him, slowly walking down her throne’s steps. 

Obi-Wan looks at Miraj’s attendant, the pink Twi’lek. She is looking down, knowing what is coming. 

“Learn your place, Jedi scum,” She says menacingly, nodding at something behind Obi-Wan. He tries to go numb, but these new cuffs work better; he can’t reach the Force at all. It is terrifying, and he can’t breathe, for now he is truly alone in this hell- 

He dimly registers the crack of a whip being ignited. His stomach sinks as he hears the whip coming down, and then he is **burning**.


	4. mentor, show me the way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay! My schedule suddenly got full this last week, so i never got a lot of time to write- but here we go! 
> 
> CHAPTER COUNT HAS UPDATED! i'm planning for this story to have 13 chapters. might change over time, but that's what i'm aiming for. 
> 
> Third item of business: I am aware the anidala relationship in canon is kinda toxic and unhealthy and very hard to defend- and I completely agree. There’s loads of metas about it, and they’re all wonderful. but guess what. This isn’t canon; it’s an AU *claps hands*. Now, i’m not saying that here, their relationship is strong, has zero flaws and is totally healthy. it’s not, cause that’s just not realistic. BUT what i am saying is that i adore these two disasters (Padmé is just more subtle about it, but she’s totally chaotic too), and they’re going through a lot of pain in this fic, so i’m making the executive decision to give them a stronger, healthier relationship than canon. 
> 
> Okay back to the show. this fic has been *painful* so here’s some comfort. <3
> 
> P.s. anakin is a disaster child and luvs to prank rex all the time, it’s canon now. also sorry this chapter is a bit short, it kind of kicked my ass and was a bit hard to get out; but next one will be longer, promise!

Anakin’s eyes fly open, his face sweaty and cold. It's the fifth time tonight he’s woken from a nightmare. Every time he closes his eyes, he’s met with sights he’d rather forget. Something about the last few weeks has ignited something in him; something he can only call _Ani_. He’s sure it’s because of what happened on Zygerria, and later, Kadavo (which he still can’t remember). But now, when he lays down, he is met with memories of Tatooine; the cries of children, the crack of a whip, the phantom weight of his mother’s body in his arms- 

Anakin hasn’t been resting much lately. 

He sits up, turning to see Padmé sleeping peacefully. Slowly leaning over, so as not to wake her, he gently kisses her cheek and stands. His eyes fall on his new, much longer prosthetic, laying next to the door. The metal glints from the moonlight peeking through the window. He rolls his shoulder, missing his flesh arm. The metal one is heavy, and feels… unnatural. Most days, he just takes it off. Anakin gulps, forcing his eyes away. 

_Nothing good comes from dwelling on the past_. He’s learned that lesson over and over again, and yet it never seems to stick. 

Anakin wanders through his wife’s apartment. As he sits on the couch, he knows he should go back to bed, at least attempt to rest; or at least take some sort of pill that would make him drowsy enough not to dream. 

But he can’t make himself get up. Rubbing his heavy eyes, Anakin calls over R2, who has been sitting dutifully by the apartment door. 

R2 settles in front of him, beeping fervently. Anakin sighs, running his left hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know, I’ll sleep later. Any updates on Obi-Wan?” 

Anakin only receives one single, low beep in response. _Nothing._ There’s nothing. Every day, when he asked, it was always the same answer: nobody had any information about Obi-Wan’s current state. The only thing they knew was that he was, well, _somewhere_ on Zygerria, and a fat lot of good that was doing them right now.

It’s been weeks. Weeks of not knowing anything, of “resting”, of not being useful. And that’s without even mentioning his missing memories. Every day, he tries to meditate, and is always met with that damn wall in his mind pushing him back. His daily routine now consists of meditating (or at least trying to), physical therapy, and thinking of Obi-Wan. 

Anakin tries to be optimistic, he does. He knows Obi-Wan is a great Jedi; he’s powerful, wise, and resilient. He is on the High Jedi Council, he is the leader of the Third Systems Army. He defeated the first Sith in a thousand years. 

But when the reassurances stop, when everyone but Anakin is asleep, leaving him alone with his thoughts… 

His mind can’t help but imagine the worst. 

~ 

“Ani?” Something softly brushes his shoulder, bringing him back from his dream. 

“Padmé?” Anakin groans, pushing himself up. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he must’ve. His throat feels dry and his muscles ache- a result of being curled up on the couch. 

“You were having a nightmare again,” Padmé says, worriedly looking over him. “You were shaking.”

“Oh,” Anakin mumbles. He can’t remember what he dreamt of, but he knows it wasn’t good. Reaching up, Anakin traces his fingers over newly wet cheeks, drying the tear tracks that run over his lengthened scar. “Did- did I wake you?” 

Padmé shakes her head. “No, I woke up and you weren’t there, so I went looking for you.” She sits on his left side, and he pulls her close. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to tell,” Anakin whispers. “Every time, it’s the same.” 

“Ani, maybe you should talk to the Council about your memories. They can help-” 

He cuts in before she can finish. “They wouldn’t understand.” 

He can feel Padmé’s sigh as she leans on him. She’s been saying for weeks that he should talk to the other Jedi, but Anakin knows it wouldn’t go well. He doesn’t need another reason for the Council to doubt him. They know he can’t remember anything about Zygerria, but they don’t need to know about the lack of sleep, the nightmares. 

Padmé’s comm beeps, reminding her to get to the Senate Building. She turns to him, her smile kind. “I’ll be back later, okay?” 

He nods, and Padmé softly kisses him before standing up. As she walks to the door, she calls out, “And do your physical therapy exercises! Stop having R2 shred the flimsi Kix gave you.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Eyebrow raised, she chuckles at his indignant facial expression. “Sure. And you definitely haven’t been having R2 search the black market for mechanical arm enhancements, have you?” 

Anakin glares at R2, who just beeps back joyfully. “Have you been telling her everything this whole time?” 

“He was my droid before you got ahold of him, Skywalker,” Padmé announces smugly. 

“Oh, really? So you two are just little partners in crime, huh?” Anakin says, trying to sound upset, though his smile betrays him. He stands up, walking over to her while shaking his head. 

“We Naboo have many tricks,” Padmé giggles. “We’re quite sneaky.” 

“You? Sneaky?” Anakin laughs, gesturing at her high-class Senatorial outfit. “ _This_ is the opposite of sneaky.” 

“Hey!” She squeaks. Poking Anakin in the chest, Padmé says, “This is _fashion_.” 

“And you look beautiful,”He murmurs, wrapping her in a one-armed hug. 

“I love you,” She replies, pressing her lips to his. 

“I love you too.” 

  
  


~ 

  
  


Anakin, Ahsoka, and R2 are in his room at the Temple, figuring out if he can get a small tranquilizer gun installed in his prosthetic. And a knife. And a secret compartment. And a flashlight. And… an electrical prod. 

All for _strictly professional_ reasons. 

“Look, I think you should just go with the regular prod. I don’t want to get shocked because you accidentally set off the ‘chain lighting’ mode,” Ahsoka argues for the tenth time. 

“But the one I want has different color options. I could make a rainbow,” Anakin argues back, giving her his best ‘ _I’m the adult_ ’ look. “And, come on, how fun would it be to wake up Rex with a bunch of rainbow lightning bolts going off?” 

“And what if you accidentally shock him?” 

“I won’t shock him, I’ll just set it up so it looks like there’s fireworks going off in his room. It’ll be fine.” 

Anakin can see her small smile at the thought. It warms his heart a bit. He knows Ahsoka’s been struggling almost as much as he has in the last few weeks, the circles under her eyes proof. He’s glad he can make her laugh a bit. 

Ahsoka’s face scrunches. “But that kind is only available on the lower levels. I don’t want to go to the lower levels just so you can get a little toy.” 

“Who said you’ll be coming with me?” He ducks as she chucks a pillow at him, narrowly missing. 

Suddenly, Anakin’s comm beeps, stealing his attention away. “The Chancellor wants to see me,” He says, feeling relieved. Anakin hasn’t been able to visit the Chancellor since he got back from the Zygerria mission. Palpatine’s always been a good listener, making him a good person to talk to. He _understands_. 

“Oh. Um, okay then.” Ahsoka’s shoulders deflate slightly. Anakin’s stomach twinges, feeling bad that he’s leaving. “Are you sure you have to go?” 

“Yeah, I mean, it’s the Chancellor; I can’t really say no.” 

Ahsoka looks off to the side, her expression unreadable. 

_She probably doesn’t want to be alone._ “Don’t worry Snips, I’ll be back soon, okay? We can go to Dex’s tonight.” 

His padawan’s face brightens, then quickly falls. “Dex makes me think of-” She doesn’t finish, but Anakin knows what she was going to say. 

_Dex makes me think of Obi-Wan._ For a bit, when with Ahsoka, Anakin had almost forgotten about it, had almost felt normal- 

“That’s okay,” Anakin says, wishing he could make her feel better. He can’t, he knows he can’t, not when he’s barely hanging on as it is. “But I’ll comm you later, alright?” 

She nods, smiling half-heartedly. “Artooey and I will look for more enhancements.” She helps him put the mechanical arm on, screwing it in place. Giving her a quick hug, Anakin walks out, already feeling a bit lighter. 

_Palpatine will understand._

~ 

Palpatine turns when Anakin walks in, a kind expression on his face. “Anakin! It’s been far too long.” 

“It has, Your Excellency,” Anakin replies easily. “How are you?” 

“I think the real question is, how are _you_? I know your most recent mission must have been… upsetting for you.” 

Anakin swallows, his face falling a bit. “Yes, I guess so,” He answers plainly, not wanting to discuss it. Thinking of the last mission sent his mind to dark places- _no, stop_ , _you’re safe here-_

“You were sent to Zygerria, correct?” The name of the planet stirs something in Anakin, just as it has the last few weeks. He chokes down the rising emotions, taking deep breaths. Palpatine gestures for him to sit. The Chancellor shakes his head. “That must have been very hard for you, I imagine. Being sent to a slave empire! Anakin, I’m very sorry.” 

“It’s alright, Chancellor,” Anakin sighs. 

“Well, Anakin, I think it’s not. Surely, the Council knows of your history? I’m surprised they would disregard it like that. This mission must have brought up many memories you’d rather forget.” 

“Well… I..” Anakin takes a deep breath. _Palpatine understands,_ he reminds himself. “I’ve been having some trouble with memories.”

“My boy, what do you mean?” 

“I can’t… I can’t remember the last mission. Everything about it is just… blank.” 

Palpatine cocks his head, waiting for Anakin to continue. 

“There’s like this wall in my head, and when I push against it to get the memories, it always pushes me back. Like it’s hiding something from me.” 

The Chancellor nods gravely. “I think I’ve heard of something like this before. A Jedi technique, used to block out certain memories. I’ve heard of the Council doing such things when someone learns too much.” 

Anakin narrows his eyes in thought. “But why would the Council want to block out my memories? And how could they do that, since I woke up in hyperspace on my way back, and my memories were already blocked?” 

“Who knows how the Jedi do the things they do? The High Council is very powerful, Anakin. Perhaps they thought you couldn’t handle the truth.” 

_Of course they’d think that_ , Anakin thinks bitterly. The Council never believed in him. “How do I fix it?” He asked. 

Palpatine gives him a kind smile. “My mentor once taught me a technique for such things, in case the Jedi ever did it to me or another Senator.” 

“Really?” Anakin asks, his tired mind running rampant. After three months of not knowing, he could _finally_ have his memories back… “What do I do?” 

“I’m so glad you asked, Anakin. Now, it takes time, you have to introduce it gradually. I like to call it ‘planting the seed’...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> his royal sithliness has made his debut, he would not take no for an answer (no matter how much i hate him). so now since Obi's gone, anakin is just. free real estate for sith grooming. cause palpatine sucks and is a huge liar and total jerk. 
> 
> but anyways, padme's here! yay!!


	5. sister, i'll hold on to you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Welcome to part five! 
> 
> Ahsoka, obi wan and anakin share quarters, because *found family* 
> 
> Also, this is not mace windu or jedi bashing. But, seeing as anakin’s views are different from my own, and it’s in his POV, it seems that way. Wanted to clarify. Anyways, let’s hear it for dad of the year plo koon, who is making his official entrance! 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this story so far in the comments, it’s a huge motivator to write :) 
> 
> p.s. whats a star wars name for master chef? galaxy chef 🙃

Anakin walks back to his room, sensing Ahsoka in there. He just got back from Palpatine’s office, and already he feels different. He feels lighter, like a weight had been lifted. He’s finally getting his memories back! 

Suddenly, Anakin feels a small prick in his head, like a thorn being wedged in. The Chancellor had warned of something like that happening- apparently, it was just the result of the memories coming back. No need to worry.

He should have known the Council were the ones behind his amnesia. They never trust him. Something must’ve happened on Zygerria, something that warranted them messing around with his head. They never thought he could handle things. What does Anakin have to do to prove himself? _He_ is the most powerful Jedi, most powerful _Force user_ , in history. Why do they still treat him like a child? 

Anakin pushes the bitter thoughts aside. Instead, he focuses on his young padawan. Her side of the bond is pulsing with melancholy, despair, loneliness. It’s been like that for weeks, and Anakin knows it was because of Obi-Wan. 

_Why did Obi-Wan have to do that?_ Anakin thinks grimly. _Didn’t he realize that we need him here? He left us, and now I lost my arm and Ahsoka’s upset and I can’t remember anything, and it’s his fault for leaving and not helping us-_

Anakin’s eyes widen in shock. Where- where did that come from? He doesn’t blame Obi-Wan for what happened. It was upsetting, sure, but Anakin knows Obi-Wan meant well. He always means well. 

_Obi-Wan was just trying to help._

Another prick in his head. This one feels sharper, like it's forcing itself onto him, and he can't push it away. 

_Obi-Wan did it because you were being useless. It’s your fault, it’s his fault, you can’t do anything right, he walks on eggshells around you-_

He must have let his shields down, because an alarmed burst of surprise and concern from Ahsoka echoes through their training bond. Shaking his head, Anakin rubs his eyes tiredly. It was just the stress of the last few weeks putting him on edge. He approaches the door to his shared quarters with Ahsoka, watching as it slides open. 

“Hey, Snips,” Anakin calls out. “You here?” 

Despite the tension in their bond, Ahsoka pops out of her room, relieved to see him. “You’re back!” Her tone doesn’t betray her worry, but Anakin can still feel wisps of it swirling around in the Force. “How was the Chancellor?” 

“Good,” Anakin says, keeping his answer short. She doesn’t need to know what they did; Ahsoka doesn’t need to be burdened with Anakin’s troubles. 

Ahsoka seems to understand that Anakin doesn’t want to talk about it. He never discusses much of what he talks about with Palpatine- the Jedi wouldn’t approve, and even though she doesn’t know the reason, Ahsoka doesn’t push (well, not anymore. Anakin remembers when she was younger, and everything he said was met with about ten different questions. He had been a bit annoyed then, but now he looks back fondly). 

His padawan moves on. “Artoo and I found a place closer to here that sells that electric prod you wanted, but apparently they’re known for selling things at an expensive price.” 

Anakin thinks it’d probably be _frowned upon_ if he spent too much money on the arm enhancements. “We’ll just have to keep looking then.” 

Ahsoka nods, and the two of them head to the kitchenette. 

Anakin glances across the hall to Obi-Wan’s room. The room is gray, the plants wilting. Anakin had forgotten to water them, as every time he went to do it, he was met with a pang in his heart and another load of guilt. 

_He’s there because of you. You didn’t help. You didn’t do anything, you didn’t fight-_

As the thoughts resurface, Anakin forces himself to turn away, ignoring the third prick in his head. He and Ahsoka get to work making dinner- Anakin had been at Palapatine’s office longer than he thought. The two of them fall into an easy silence as they cook. 

Anakin had been the one to teach Ahsoka how to cook, just as his mother did for him. His mom was always full of lessons, stories and skills that she passed down to her son. Back then, when she’d get him to learn things, Anakin had protested, but now he knows the true purpose. The skills were useful, yes, but they were also meant to distract him- focus his mind on something other than his life as a slave. 

_“I don’t want to learn to cook,” Anakin whined. He was tired from working all day; it had been particularly hot, and Watto had made him stand in the sun repairing podracers for hours. Anakin’s skin burned, from his sunburn and the lashings he received from complaining about said sunburn._

_“My son, you underestimate the power of food,” Shmi said. “It is precious, and making it is one of the most important skills you will learn.”_

_“I thought water was the most important thing?”_

_Shmi smiled gently, running her hand over Anakin’s knotted hair. “It is. Water is what keeps us alive, but food is what brings us together.”_

Anakin had later realized that her words were true. The first time he and Ahsoka truly started to bond was when Anakin taught her to bake a popular pastry from Naboo. The kitchen had been a mess for almost a week afterward, and the end product wasn’t great (Anakin had let his padawan take the reins, which had proven to be a mistake), but they had had fun. Plus, the look on Obi-Wan’s face when he’d seen what they’d done was priceless. 

The two of them eat in companionable, if a bit uneasy, silence. It’s been like this for weeks. Everything just feels… empty, now. 

When Anakin had actually been allowed to walk around the ship without giving Kix a minor heart attack (Anakin was actually good at sneaking out sometimes, which his head medic said would be the death of him), he’d first gone to see Cody.

The 212th Commander hadn’t looked good. For now, the battalion was left without a Jedi General, along with the 501st, whose General was on extended leave- and the men were not looking forward to being led by someone else, if the Council decided to send another Jedi. 

Anakin could tell Cody hadn’t been sleeping nearly enough, not even an amount that would be deemed even remotely passable, let alone sufficient. His face seemed a bit more sunken, not so much you’d notice at first glance; but if you knew Cody, and looked closely, you could see the tiniest change in his features. His cheekbones were more defined, eyes lined with dark circles, his usually impeccable posture hunched. 

Anakin is not the only one suffering without Obi-Wan. The same can be said for Ahsoka, Rex (who had gotten out of bacta a few weeks ago, and was also on extended leave- apparently, his injuries were practically as bad as Anakin’s), the Jedi Order as a whole- 

They will get him back. They’ll get him back. They have to. 

Ahsoka picks up Anakin’s plate, who hadn’t realized he’d finished eating. He smiles at her thankfully, before reaching out into the Force. 

He needs to make sure Obi-Wan is still there. He starts to grow worried as he scours the Force and doesn't find anything. There are traces of his master’s spirit -of course there were, seeing as Obi-Wan is the type of person who stuck with you for a long time, maybe forever- but no actual Force presence. 

Obi-Wan is gone. He is gone. There is nothing, he isn’t there, where is he- 

Despair starts to fill Anakin. He’d just felt Obi-Wan, hadn’t he? Hadn’t… hadn’t he reached out at least once since he woke up? 

Or did he? Did he forget? How, how could he forget- 

A prick in his head. 

_You forgot because he’s not important. Look, you’re doing just fine without him. He only holds you back. It’s a good thing_ \- 

_No. no. nonono. He’s gone and I need to find him, I need to bring him back, he’s my master and best friend and my brother, I need him-_

Anakin tries to focus his thoughts, but they’re racing a mile a minute. Why can’t he just shut off, for once? 

“Master?” A voice whispers. A tether. Ahsoka. 

“Ahsoka,” Anakin chokes out. “Can you- can you feel him?” Maybe the process of getting his memories back has somehow weakened his connection to the Force, and Anakin isn’t thinking straight? Yes, yes, that must be it. 

His apprentice closes her eyes. He waits, watching as her face scrunches up with concentration. After a few minutes, her lip quivers. Her bright blue eyes open as they well up, and in unison her and Anakin reach for each other. 

Their soft sobs echo throughout their quarters as they mourn their lost mentor, neither of them knowing how to pick up the pieces of their broken family. 

After a moment, Anakin slowly lets go of his padawan. “I should- I should tell the Council,” he says, almost numb. 

Ahsoka nods, the tears still gliding down her face. Anakin takes a shuddering breath and walks out. He glances back with a heavy heart as his little sister wraps her arms around herself and cries. 

~ 

Anakin walks into the Council chambers, the night sky a sharp contrast to the glow in the room. Despite the warm tones of the chambers, Anakin has never felt at ease in this room. The walls bear down on him, and he shifts his weight subconsciously.

He tries his hardest not to glare at them. He won’t bring up his lost memories. _The ones that they stole_. This is about Obi-Wan. 

_Obi-Wan. Please, not him._ Anakin feels so helpless, so _weak_. 

“Young Skywalker, news you have, do you?” Master Yoda asks. 

Anakin nods, swallowing. His voice comes out quieter than he intended. “I can’t… feel Obi-Wan… anymore.” 

“What do you mean, you can’t feel Obi-Wan?” Master Windu asks inquisitively, leaning forward. Anakin bristles under the Master’s weighted stare. 

“I _mean_ , I can’t feel him in the Force. He’s _gone._ ” Anakin watches as the present Council members (he wouldn’t look at _that chair_ ) exchange looks. 

After a tense few minutes, Master Plo speaks. “I, too, am unable to sense him.” Other Councilors nod, looking grim.

“Troubling, this is. But jump to conclusions, we should not,” Master Yoda muses. “Alive, Master Kenobi may still be.” 

“Yes, I agree,” Master Windu says. Anakin’s jaw clenches. “We don’t know all the facts. It will do us no good if we assume the worst.” 

“But what if the worst is true?” Anakin asks them, looking around at them all. “What if he’s-” 

“Have faith, young one,” the hologram of Shaak Ti assures. “Master Kenobi is strong. He will find his way back to us.” 

_I can’t wait that long_ , Anakin thinks frustratedly. “Send me to find him, Masters. Please.” 

“Healed, you are not. Rest here, you must, until your health is restored.” Yoda gives him a look that Anakin isn’t sure is meant to be encouraging or not; it was hard to tell with the Grandmaster sometimes. 

“Anakin. We will search for Obi-Wan when the time is right. But for now, you need to wait,” Master Windu declares seriously. 

“But I can handle it.” 

“Nobody is doubting your strengths,” Master Plo says. “But we need you to _stay here_.” 

Another thorn shoves itself into his head. 

_They doubt you. They criticize you. Show them true power_. Anakin shoves the slimy thoughts away, wishing they’d stop.

He forces his facial expression into one of begrudging respect. “As you say, Masters.” He bows to them and leaves, anger and grief worming its way inside him. 

~

“What did they say?” Ahsoka asks, her eyes puffy but no longer leaking with tears. 

Anakin answers before he can stop himself. “Exactly what I expected them to.” Out of the corner of his eye, Ahsoka wilts, and he kicks himself for being so careless. Running his hand through his hair, Anakin tries again. “They just- they want me to stay here and rest.” 

“That’s good, I guess. Soon, you’ll be back to normal, and then we’ll go after him,” She announces shakily, sounding like she was telling it to herself as well. 

For the second time that day, Anakin’s comm started beeping. It was a personal code, one for him and Padmé. A message, asking where he is. Anakin glances at it regretfully. He shouldn’t leave Ahsoka, not now. But he desperately wants to see Padmé, needing the comfort only she could provide (right now, there was a fire in Anakin, and as much as he tried to douse it, the flames only seemed to grow, fueled by Anakin’s fragile mental state). 

Ahsoka looks down. “You should get that. She’s waiting for you.” 

Anakin whips his head up, redness blooming on his cheeks. “What? I- what?” 

Despite her sorrow, Ahsoka smiles a wobbly smile. “Padmé. That’s her, isn’t it?” 

He doesn’t know how to respond. Eventually, he asks hesitantly, “You know?” 

“Of course I know,” Ahsoka murmurs. There was no judgment in her tone, only gentle fact. “And… so does Obi-Wan.” That last part sounded almost guilty, like she was admitting some dirty secret. 

Anakin’s eyes widen fearfully. “ _Obi-Wan knows_?” 

“I think this is a conversation we should have another time,” Ahsoka gestures to the still-beeping comm. “But, Anakin- Obi-Wan was never mad about it.” 

All Anakin can do is nod. There’s so many words he needs to say, so many protests and thoughts and fears that he wants to lay out for everyone to see, but he can’t. Not without Obi-Wan, not when his head is spinning and he can barely stay grounded, for Ahsoka’s sake. “We’ll get him back, Ahsoka, I promise.” 

“I know,” she whispers. Anakin sends a quick message back that he’d be staying at the temple, but saying _goodnight, I love you_ (he should never have left Ahsoka alone here, what had he been _thinking?_ ). 

Anakin gathers her in his arms, hugging her close. “What’s that show he likes? The food one?” 

“Galaxy Chef, I think?” She says, sounding a tiny bit lighter. 

He smiles fondly. “Seeing as we’re not doing much tomorrow, how about we watch some of it?” 

_Some_ quickly became _five hours worth_ and the two of them ended up crashing on the couch, the holovid playing in the background as they slept. 

(They both woke up with sore backs, lots of fresh tears, and many bowls of ice cream scattered around them, but neither would say it wasn’t worth it. 

It took their minds off things. 

For now).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahsoka: i know you're with padme
> 
> anakin, blushing like a tomato: wHat? WhO? whAt is LovE? wHo is PaDmE? nO idEa whAt yOu mEan


	6. friend, help me see clearly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is up way sooner than i thought it’d be…. How exciting :) 
> 
> Anyways, it’s time to go back to zygerria… *smiles to hide the pain* lots of slave culture/worldbuilding in this chapter, everyone (translations can be found at the bottom notes)!
> 
> AU where obi wan met shmi in TPM because… yes. 
> 
> HUGE THANK YOU TO [AlabasterInk](URL) and [WaterRose3](URL) for letting me use your slave languages, they’re amazing and so are you two <3
> 
> also... again.. um... I LOVE COMMENTS okay sorry back to the story

Obi-Wan once thought, in his cramped cell, he had forgotten what the outside was like. Now, he doesn’t remember what it means to be indoors. 

After the… _incident_ in the throne room, the queen decided to move Obi-Wan to a few hours outside the capital, far enough that he couldn’t attack her but close enough that she’d be able to visit her prize every once and awhile. To “check in” on him, as she put it. To grind them down even more, the builders are forced to sleep outside, no matter what the weather is like. 

The queen has put him to work building houses and villages for citizens of Zygerria (who would actually _want_ to live on this horrible planet, Obi-Wan doesn’t know). He and the other slaves get up before the sun rises and sleep after it sets. They are fed twice a day, just enough scraps that they won’t starve, but small enough that they are constantly reminded of how hungry they are, how tired and sore and _broken_ they are. Because, as the masters love to remind them, they do not deserve to rest, or heal, or eat.. They belong to Her Majesty. They are property, nothing more. 

The thought makes Obi-Wan sick. 

(Some of the other slaves, the newer ones, got sick a lot at first. They weren’t used to this sort of treatment. Their bodies deteriorated as they dry heaved after so many hours without food. Eventually, they adapt. And if they don’t, they die. It’s simple. 

Obi-Wan wonders when such a horrifying thing became simple to him). 

The Dark fire in him has mostly been snuffed out. Even without the force-binding cuffs (which the queen has modified so he can still build with them on- because she’s just so _thoughtful_ ) Obi-Wan knows the fire wouldn’t have lasted long. His spirit is too battered to sustain such things. 

(But sometimes, when he lets his walls down, the blackness creeps him and tries to eat at him, and sometimes, Obi-Wan is too tired to fight back). 

So, he spends each day in a haze, going from one to the next. He feels hollow. The Force, which had once taken up so much of him, has been ripped away. He spends the nights clawing at something, anything, wishing he could _feel_ again. 

But he can’t. He is alone, alone, all alone. 

Obi-Wan wonders what happened to Anakin, where he is and if he’s safe. He wonders if Anakin misses him, or if he’s (and oh, how much it hurt to think this) happier. Honestly, Obi-Wan’s not sure which one would surprise him more. These last few years, something had driven a wedge between the two, and Obi-Wan couldn’t figure out how to fix it; all he knew was that he missed Anakin, the connection they once had. 

Obi-Wan remembers the days when Anakin would wake up at night, sweaty and upset, seeking comfort from Obi-Wan. He would trudge into his master’s room, wordlessly sliding under the covers. Those mornings when Obi-Wan would wake up with his limbs tangled with Anakin’s, neck sore from instinctively curling up around the young boy even in sleep… he wouldn’t trade that for the world. 

His heart pangs as he thinks of that time, when he could read Anakin so easily. When Anakin didn’t push him away, when he didn't close up as Obi-Wan neared. Their conversations still flowed as easily as before, but there was something missing, something just out of their reach that neither knew how to grasp. 

Obi-Wan wishes he fought harder for Anakin; how he’d do that, he isn’t sure, but he _wishes_. 

“No slacking, scug,” someone snaps, jarring Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. It’s one of the guards, who spend their days yelling insults at the slaves and whipping those they feel deserve it. 

Obi-Wan hates them so, so much. He wishes he could rip these cuffs off, slam them at a guard’s head, teach them what pain feels like- 

_Please don’t go there again_. _Just, stop, please. Please._

“I said, no slacking. Pick up your feet.” The guard grips Obi-Wan’s chin in his hand. “And look at me when I speak to you, Jedi scum.” 

The usual jeers follow when the word _Jedi_ is mentioned. Some from guards, some from slaves. 

_Pathetic. Murderer. Snob. Puppet._ All sorts of words that worm their way into Obi-Wan’s head. 

The guard forcefully throws him to the ground, laughing as Obi-Wan barely keeps his face from smashing into the cement. His bony hands extend, slowly finding the strength to get up. 

He stares defiantly at the Zygerrian man, shakily standing his ground until the guard scoffs and walks away. 

Obi-Wan goes back to building, back to the haze. 

At least in the haze, he doesn’t have to think about those he misses, those he longs to see again. 

~ 

The guard, a different one than before (even though they seem to blur in Obi-Wan’s mind; they all bring pain, so why care which one it is), tosses a bowl at Obi-Wan’s feet. “Dinner.” 

The portion is even smaller than usual. He’s probably being punished for slowing down earlier. Carefully, he sits down in a secluded area of their makeshift camp, avoiding eye contact with anyone. That’s another lesson he’s learned here: talking gets attention. Attention brings punishment, which brings pain. 

Obi-Wan does not want any more pain. He’s not sure he can handle it. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone sit next to him. They seem familiar. He turns his head, looking them up and down. Upon inspection, he realizes it’s the Twi’lek from the throne room- the one who had tried so hard to quiet him, even when it was too late. 

Her bright pink skin stands out like a beacon among the dry tans of Zygerria. She is wearing the same dreary gray jumpsuit as Obi-Wan, and just like his, it’s much too loose. The scratchy material hangs off her body, making her skinny frame look even more delicate. But, as he meets her eyes, he recognizes something in them. 

The greens of her irises contain something he’s only seen in two people: Shmi Skywalker, and her son. It’s something he can’t quite name, and he’s not sure if it has one- but it’s a phenomenon that comes with survival. It tells a story; not a happy one, but one that speaks of insight, suffering, and strength. 

She nods to him as if they’re old friends, then starts eating. The way the slaves eat is so different from what Obi-Wan is used to. They eat incredibly fast, but also somehow savor every bite. As if they are preparing for the meal to be taken away, so they appreciate as much of it as they can. 

Obi-Wan nods back. He can tell he is older than her- she appears to be only a few years older than Anakin. However, he feels that she is full of a type of wisdom that he will never truly understand. 

That night, when they curl up on the cold, rough ground, he feels someone curl against his back for warmth, and he’s almost positive it’s her. 

He is right. 

~ 

About three days later, Obi-Wan finds himself eating breakfast near a Mirialan who can’t be older than Ahsoka. Quietly, he places his piece of bread (well, he calls it bread. He’s not exactly sure that’s what it is) on the young one’s plate, noticing how much their bones protrude from their skin. 

The Mirialan looks up at him gratefully, going to pick up the bread before they are suddenly kicked sharply in the side. 

Obi-Wan looks up at the guard. Without thinking, he stands up and punches the guard square in the jaw. He watches in satisfaction as the Zygerrian stumbles to the ground, but the feeling doesn’t last. Another comes up behind him, turning Obi-Wan around and gripping his neck. 

Obi-Wan gasps for breath, closing his eyes as his air is cut off. 

Through the fog, he thinks he hears hissed words, which quickly become more insistent. Soon, he’s let go of and shoved down to the dirt. Obi-Wan opens his eyes to see the pink Twi’lek standing in front of the guard, her fists clenched. 

To Obi-Wan’s surprise, the guard relents, but not before slapping the Twi’lek on the cheek. He stalks away, muttering something under his breath. 

The Twi’lek helps Obi-Wan up, a fiery calm in her eyes. 

~

One night, the two are picked to gather firewood for the guards’ cabin. There is a large pile kept a ways out from camp (Obi-Wan thinks it is another source of entertainment for the Zygerrians, watching two slaves trek for so long for the purpose of another’s comfort. The slaves do not get a fire. They get the ground, a flimsy blanket, and nothing more). 

After fifteen minutes, he speaks. “I am Obi-Wan,” he whispers into the darkness. 

She doesn’t reply for a few moments. Finally, she murmurs, “I am Hirani.” Her voice has a heavy Ryl accent, sounding too elegant for a place such as Zygerria. 

“That guard stopped choking me… because of you,” He says.  
  
“Is that a question?” She glances at him, takes in his expression. She exhales, long and tired-sounding. “Yes, he did. I told him to stop.” 

“And he listened?” 

“Sometimes they do that. If they think you’re appealing enough. To them, my… _body_ makes up for the disobedience.” She goes quiet, jaw tightening. 

Obi-Wan doesn’t know how to reply to something that makes him feel so ill, so he switches topics. “You were there, that day in the palace.” It is a statement. He already knows the answer, but just wants an excuse to keep talking to someone for the first time in _so long_. “You were the Queen’s attendant, were you not?” 

“Yes,” she says, sighing. “But she knew I tried to quiet you. So she sent me here as well.”

“I’m sorry.” He feels guilty for being the reason she’s here. 

“Don’t be,” she says sharply. “We must help each other out here. Nobody else will.” It’s so final, so sure, that Obi-Wan almost forgets that he was raised a Jedi. His instinct is to help everyone… even if in the last few years, he hasn’t been able to. The war had taken so much from the entire Order, and filled so much of their lives, he sometimes doesn’t remember how things used to be. 

Hirani’s voice cuts into his whirling thoughts. “I told you to be quiet that day. You did not listen.” 

“I didn’t know how,” he replies, and isn’t that the truth. He truly had forgotten how to quiet himself that day, and the angry red scars he earned prove it. 

“You should have listened anyway.” She speaks as Shmi once spoke: unwavering, but still gentle. “You wouldn’t have been hurt.” 

“It wasn’t the first time she whipped me. I was already hurt.” 

Hirani pivots around to face him, and suddenly Obi-Wan feels _ashamed_ for not doing as she said. Something in her eyes scolds him, a heavy look that pierces him straight to the bone. “You do not make it worse! Are you so eager for _Dukkra_? They do not care what you say, _Obi-Wan_. They just care that you dare speak at all.” 

_Peace in silence_. Those words that Anakin once recited are shoved to the forefront of Obi-Wan’s mind. “My brother once told me that they only win when we give them our words.” 

Hirani looks ahead, transfixed on the path before them. “Your brother was right. They have our bodies already. But our words belong to us.” This hurts Obi-Wan for so many reasons, and he isn’t sure how to phrase the thoughts in his head; just that Hirani’s words stab at his heart, even if she doesn’t mean them to. 

They fall silent for a bit. But later, Hirani is the one to break the silence. “Why does your brother know our lessons, but you do not?” 

Obi-Wan looks at her in surprise. Her bright green eyes are questioning, even a bit guarded. “Pardon?” 

“Your brother. He told you that we do not give our words. Why do you not know this? Why did he have to tell you?” 

“I don’t understand. Could you elaborate?” 

Instead of explaining, she narrows her eyes. “You are not one of us, are you?” 

He opens his mouth and closes it again. “I am a slave here.” 

“But you were not always one. You are not one of our Children.” When she looks at him again, he nods. 

“Your brother. What does he belong to?” The way Hirani says this, Obi-Wan can tell she doesn’t mean the Jedi Order. 

_I know what a Child of the Desert looks like._ “Tatooine. He’s from Tatooine.” 

“ _Ji Alask, cei_ ,” Hirani whispers in Ryl. “I am sorry for that.” 

“For what?” 

“That he belongs to the _Ar-Amu._ ”

“Anakin doesn’t _belong_ to anyone-” He falls silent at her sharp stare. “He has been freed,” He mumbles indignantly. 

“Maybe. But he will always belong to the Dunes.” 

Noticing the protective anger on Obi-Wan’s face, she tilts her head. “I used to live there. The Desert is cruel. It stays with you forever.” Hirani’s face looks wistful, and she starts to recite something. “ _May the Desert grant them peace._ ” 

They reach the pile of firewood, after what seems like an eternity of walking. As he gathers wood, Obi-Wan asks, “Is… is that from a poem?” 

“What?” 

“What you said before. ‘May the Desert grant them peace’. Is it a poem?” 

Hirani laughs bitterly, but not maliciously. As if she’s been told a joke that hits too close to home, but won’t explain why. “It is not a poem. It is our code.” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes widen. A code? He’d never heard of a slave code… but then again, there are many things he’d never known before coming to this forsaken place. As they start walking back, Hirani gives him the beginnings of a smile.

Seeing his confusion, she must take pity on him, for she continues: “You have been on this planet for a long time. It is time you learn our code. Every one of our Children know it. It is how we live. If your brother belongs to the Desert, he will surely know it too.”  
  
Hirani stops walking and turns to face him. She places her thumb and forefinger of her left hand together, closing the other three fingers in a fist. She touches that hand to her heart, before bringing it down to her side, releasing her fingers and pointing up. 

Obi-Wan doesn’t know what, exactly, the gesture means, but something in him whispers that he must be patient and quiet as Hirani speaks. 

“ _Unbroken through Hope_

_Mercy in Death_

_Beauty in Damage_

_Hope in Life_

_Freedom in Rest_

_Defiance in Demureness_

_Life in Stories_

_Peace in Silence_

_Broken but Sharp_

_Mended but Scarred_

_Scarred but Safe_

_Desert for the Lost_.” 

They do not speak for the rest of their journey back. But Obi-Wan can feel himself breaking, screaming, calling out for his brother who has _suffered_ and Obi-Wan never quite realized how much.

The burst of emotion is so raw and wild, that echoes of it flit across the Force, causing a young Knight on Coruscant to look up and _hope_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations (more explanations of certain phrases will come later)
> 
> Dukkra - death, rest 
> 
> Ji Alask, cei - the Desert, then 
> 
> Ar-Amu - All Mother. All children of Tatooine are hers. It is said that Depur stole the children away from her, giving her grief beyond tears and making Tatooine into a desert.
> 
> hand gesture that Hirani does - says "listen to this story, it may save your life". The slave code is a set of short phrases that teaches the slaves (mainly Tatooine, but probably found on other planets but with different variations) how to get by and such. the code will be expanded on in later chapters.


End file.
